


Height Differences

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: Fluff, Height Differences, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1673732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Craig and Tweek like to argue over who's the taller one. Neither want to admit to it, because that's just something they don't want to agree on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Height Differences

It happened every day, and Tweek didn’t like it.

Every day Tweek came out of his house and trotted to the busstop. That wasn’t the part of his day he didn’t care for, however. Actually, this was kind of nice. The cool mountain air surrounding him, the quiet chirping of the birds in the trees, the way everything seemed to be standing still as he walked with only his thoughts to wait for the schoolbus. All of that was nice and peaceful and at such a contrast with how Tweek himself usually was, that he found he could appreciate it for that difference.

No, the thing Tweek didn’t like was when he reached the bus stop. Token was usually already there, flipping through the songs on his iPod. When he spotted Tweek he would pause his music and greet the blond, raising a hand in greeting. Tweek would say hello back, and usually mutter about the gnomes that were tormenting him overnight. Token didn’t normally respond to that, so Tweek wasn’t sure why he kept bringing it up. They all thought he was insane for believing in the gnomes in the first place. Sometimes Tweek agreed with them and felt like he was losing what little marbles he had in the first place.

Not too long after, Clyde would come trotting up and grinning, telling them about how his mom had made tacos the night before, or had prepared some other awesome family dinner. Token would then say he got to order out, or his parents bought him this or that, and then it would become a competition. Who had the better parents? Who had the best night? It was always like that at the bus stop in the mornings.

Competition was actually the reason Tweek sometimes didn’t like these early morning conversations.

Tweek would listen quietly as Token and Clyde would goodnaturedly argue amongst each other, pretty much ignoring Tweek. Tweek didn’t mind so much though. He preferred to be on the outside of the shenanigans, because enough whacky things happened to him on a day-to-day basis that sometimes it was okay to sit one out. He’d had enough in elementary school when he’d been in Stan’s gang for only a few weeks, enough to last him an entire lifetime, so this group of friends he preferred. The craziest thing they got into was competing with each other. Tweek liked it that way.

That was when Craig would appear. Craig, with his Red Racer backpack and beat up Chuck Taylor shoes. Craig, with his too baggy jacket and a little too tight jeans. Tweek had a suspicion that his parents didn’t pay enough attention to him and bought him ill fitting clothes because they were too apathetic to care. It was like a competition too, because Craig didn’t give two shits either, so it was him against his parents apathy. Who would win? Who would come out on top? Tune in next time to find out!

Usually Craig would listen to Clyde and Token for a bit, and then turn his dark eyes on Tweek when he grew bored. “I grew an inch,” Craig drawled boredly, his hands shoved into his jacket’s pockets. That didn’t do much good for Craig, because his jacket pockets were torn and so his hands practically hung out in the air while in there. Tweek wondered if he should offer to bring Craig one of his old jackets he didn’t use anymore. Would Craig accept it? Tweek was pretty sure he wouldn’t. He didn’t like it when people pointed out his parents bought him shitty clothes.

“N-no you fucking d-didn’t,” Tweek would snap back, glaring. “You ca-can’t fucking grow an entire f-fucking inch overnight, jackass.”

Craig would just smirk and shrug listlessly. “Well, I did.” The tone sounded final. Tweek didn’t appreciate that. He didn’t appreciate that one fucking bit. Tweek would puff up his chest and narrow his eyes, honey colored orbs snapping with electricity as he glared at Craig. He dared him to keep going with this. Tweek wasn’t going to be the shortest! There was no fucking way! He was already the most fragile mental and physical wise, he didn’t want to be the shortest of the group too.

Token, of course, was the tallest. Clyde came second, with Craig and Tweek being in last place. They had always been roughly the same height, so it was hard to figure out who was the taller between them. Craig said it was him, because he deserved it. Tweek would always scoff and tell him no he fucking didn’t, and that they were the same height.

“We’re not the same height,” Craig would reply, because this was the normal response Craig would throw out eventually in the morning. This was a daily occurrence. Craig liked it nice and boring, he liked the same routine, so this argument would be brought up every single day. It was like clockwork. Tweek would never admit it, but he kind of liked that Craig always talked to him about this. It was something that kept them close, something that they could talk about constantly and never grow tired with. Clyde and Token had their best friendship, and then Tweek and Craig had theirs.

Though... their friendship had grown weird lately. Just the other night, Craig had sat a little too close to Tweek while watching a scary movie, had held his hand through the whole thing, had whispered funny comments about the stupid movie all night. It had sent a flutter in Tweek’s belly and he wasn’t sure if he liked that. Did he want their friendship to change? Tweek wasn’t sure. You could never be sure of anything with Tweek and emotions, because it was just too much pressure.

“I-if anything,” Tweek would always bring up, “I should be the tallest b-because of my h-hair, man. It can’t be fucking t-tamed.”

“It is like a wild beast,” Clyde would point out, coming out of his conversation with Token and noticing that Craig and Tweek were at it once again. “I think he’s got you there.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Craig would mumble and they’d let the conversation drop. The bus would usually be pulling up right about then anyway, so there was really no reason to keep the banter going. The doors to the vehicle would open and they’d all march inside, going to their seats in the middle, always sitting in the same order and right near each other so they could keep chatting easily.

Tweek liked that everything was always the same. He liked that he could depend on this no matter what, but... today was different. Today differed just slightly, just enough of a curve to throw off the whole game. Tweek’s heart flew up into his throat when, before he could walk onto the bus, fingers entangled with his own. Tweek’s heart fluttered nervously in his throat and he turned to peer down at his hand, where Craig’s own slender digits were clutching Tweek’s. Tweek swallowed nervously and glanced at Craig, only to see he was staring straight ahead. A small pink flush was on his cheeks and he didn’t dare look around at Tweek as they shuffled towards the open door.

Tweek bit his lower lip and tried not to smile. He... normally didn’t like variations to his routine, but... this one was kind of nice. It made him feel kind of glowy on the inside? All nice and warm. Craig’s fingers were cold, he wondered if Craig would enjoy this more if he felt all fuzzy and happy inside.

Tweek pulled Craig’s cold fingers into the pocket of his jacket to help warm them up.

“I’m still t-the taller one,” Tweek muttered as they held hands and stepped onto the bus together.


End file.
